Healing the Boss's Heart (9 page)

She held the broken door for him while he struggled to drag the last carpet strips out onto the sidewalk. They were clearly a lot heavier wet than dry and he was sweating profusely.

“Are you sure I can’t help you?”

“Just keep the door open and stay out of the way.”

“Okay, okay. I’m on your side, remember?”

“I know. I just can’t believe this mess.”

“I can’t believe how fast we’re getting it cleaned up.”

“You must be joking.”

Maya grinned over at him. She’d donned jeans and an old T-shirt for the dirty work and was also perspiring, so she’d tied a cotton bandanna around her forehead. “Not at all. Look on the bright side. We don’t have to do this upstairs, too.”

“No, but there is still your house to consider.”

“I told you. We can’t touch any more there until the insurance people take pictures of the damaged areas. Besides, I don’t think there’s much else left over there to save.”

“You’re probably right about that,” Greg said, wiping his hands on his jeans and coming back inside. “What do you want to do about living-room furniture?”

“Honestly? I hadn’t even thought about it. There are too many other things on my mind.”

“We could take a run up to Manhattan and shop for a sofa or something.”

“Now? Don’t be silly. I’ll just take a few lawn chairs upstairs and sit in those. Why buy new furniture? I’ll probably need every cent I can scrounge or save to rebuild my house. It’s going to be expensive. Everything is these days.”

“True. But there are ways to cut corners, especially if you know the guy who owns the lumber yard.”

Maya didn’t reply. She desperately wanted to
restore her house to the way it had been, but she was already too in debt to her boss to suit her. If he did much more for her she was going to feel so beholden to him it would ruin their working relationship.

Sobering and sorting through the stack of damp files on her desk, she fought her emotional reactions—tried to reason them away. Greg had helped her, yes, but she wasn’t the only one, nor was he her only possible source of aid. The church deacons would have provided for her, had she chosen to ask. She knew that for a fact. She also knew that others in High Plains had far greater needs than hers. It was those people who should come first.

So, what shall I do, Father?
she prayed silently.
Shall I take Greg’s charity or refuse? And if I do that, where will I live and how will I care for Layla?

Maya didn’t need a voice from Heaven to answer her questions. It was obvious that the Lord had already provided for her and her daughter. She had a job, a place to live and a bright future in spite of everything. All she had to do was swallow her pride and accept it.

Sneaking a sidelong glance at Greg she was surprised at how her heart swelled and began to pound. The always perfect, always overly neat man looked so different in his worn jeans and sweaty shirt she could hardly believe the transformation.

And it wasn’t merely his clothing, she added,
half chagrined, half in awe. The change extended all the way from his short hair and sneaker-clad feet to the tender soul she’d glimpsed when he’d ministered to Tommy with such empathy. Like it or not, she was enamored of the man. The only question remaining was how long she’d be able to continue to work for him—and with him—when her emotions were so far out of whack.

S
inging along with the rest of the congregation at the impromptu praise service that evening, Maya looked around the packed sanctuary. Beth and Brandon Otis were there, as usual, accompanied by a sullen Tommy. Many others of her neighbors had come, too.

There were also nearly as many strangers present as there were regular parishioners. Most looked as if they had come in straight from working on the cleanup, which was no problem to a church like High Plains Community. They accepted everyone, rich, poor and anything in between. If a person wanted to worship the Lord, he or she was always welcome, regardless of circumstances.

“Please bow with me in prayer,” Michael said as soon as the song ended.

He thanked God for their survival and the chance for the church to assist those in need, before launch
ing into praise that all present were well enough to attend in spite of the disaster.

As soon as Maya folded her hands and closed her eyes she pictured Greg. It was always thoughts of Greg that filled her quietest times. She had quit arguing against his being one of the primary instruments God was using to help her, and for that alone she gave special thanks. He had put a roof over her head, given her unquestioning support and had even kept his promise to attend Reverend Garrison’s special service.

Yes, he and the young pastor were cousins. And, yes, he had chosen to sit with some of the other men instead of next to her, but Maya didn’t care. Greg was here. In a house of worship. That was all she needed to start believing that he was on his way to reviving his latent faith. How could it be otherwise when he had already seen so many blessings come out of the aftermath of the storm?

Beside her, Layla fidgeted and tugged on the hem of her cotton blouse. “Mama?”

“Shush.”

“But, Mama…”

“Not now.”

Maya sat down and took the child’s hand as soon as Michael said
Amen.
“Okay, what?” she whispered.

“Can I go to the nursery with Miss Josie?”

“I don’t think she’s here tonight. Her grandma’s in the hospital and she’s probably visiting her,”
Maya replied. “Just sit here with me for a few minutes and then we’ll eat supper in the fellowship hall with everybody else.”

Listening to Michael’s litany of praises and special needs, Maya was pleased to hear that Josie’s grandmother’s injuries were not life-threatening and that the police chief had escaped with only a few bruises and a cracked bone in his arm.

“We’re also blessed to have heard from Heather Waters about the cottages down by the river,” Michael said. “She’s going to allow us to use them for temporary housing as long as necessary. If you need a place to stay, see me after the service and we’ll add your name to our list for possible placement.”

He continued with the usual litany of folks who were feeling poorly for other reasons and who also needed uplifting.

When he concluded by mentioning Jesse’s name and explaining about Marie’s accidental death, tears clouded Maya’s vision. She was having great difficulty accepting the fact that Marie was gone forever and she couldn’t imagine that Jesse was doing any better, especially since he’d spoken with Marie’s parents. They had all met accidentally while visiting the triplets in the hospital and it was then that Jesse had learned why they were in the area. They’d come to rescue Marie from her unhappy marriage. From her life with
him
.

In the end, Jesse had reluctantly given them per
mission to take their daughter’s body home for burial after it was released by the coroner, which meant there would be no funeral service for Marie in High Plains, no family grave in the old churchyard cemetery. And therefore, no real closure for poor Jesse.

Dear Lord, help my brother,
she prayed.
And tell me what to do, what to say to him.

She had already decided to post Marie’s picture outside the church and encourage folks to leave flowers and mementos there as a memorial. Beyond that, she didn’t know what to do.

“Where is Clay when we need him?” she asked God in a hushed whisper as soon as Michael was through speaking and began to dismiss the congregation for dinner in the fellowship hall.

Close behind her, she heard a deep, familiar male voice say softly, “I thought you’d talked to Clay.”

She whipped around, startled to see Greg. “No. He’s still out in the wilderness somewhere. All I could do was leave a message.” Her eyes narrowed. “Hey, weren’t you sitting over on the other side?”

“Yes. I didn’t see you when I came in.”

“No wonder, as crowded as it is,” Maya said. “Will you come along and eat with us?”

“Are you sure? We don’t want to start rumors, remember?”

Blushing, she answered aside. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that. Several people have asked why we
were holding hands down by the river yesterday. Then there’s Miss Linda’s opinion that I’d finally found a nice man, too. All in all, there’s already plenty of talk going around.”

“Hmm. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m a big girl. And I’ve had to deal with plenty of gossip before.”

“Well, at least you and I know there’s nothing wrong going on. Everybody else should know better, too.”

Maya managed a smile and silently thanked God once again for that man. It had taken her years to live down her unwed mother status and accept the fact that there would always be a few townspeople who looked down on her because of it. Now, here stood the formerly stuffy, formerly difficult-to-please Gregory Garrison, telling her that he had no doubts about her character. And he clearly meant every word.

That realization brought fresh tears to her eyes.

To Greg’s surprise, the other parishioners slapped him on the back, shook his hand and generally treated him as if he were a regular member of their church family. He figured that was probably because Maya was introducing him to everyone in the fellowship hall and he was also carrying Layla, but it felt good nonetheless. So good, in fact, that he happily instructed everyone to call him Greg instead of Gregory or Mr. Garrison, just as he had Maya.

“Everybody’s so friendly,” he said to her. “No wonder Mike loves it here.”

She smiled up at him as she began to fill a plate for herself and one for her daughter. “Mike? I’ve never heard anyone else call him anything but Michael.”

“I guess I still think of him as my rotten little cousin, Mikey,” Greg said, grinning. “He was into everything. It was my job to make him behave whenever we were together because I am five years older.”

“It’s hard to imagine my pastor as a naughty little boy.” Maya was dishing up potato salad. “Are you sure I can’t fill a plate for you while I’m at it?”

“No. Just take care of the princess and yourself. I’ll get something later, after you’re both settled.”

Hearing herself referred to that way made Layla giggle, as he had intended. Children were resilient. Still, all this upheaval had to be hard on them, especially those who couldn’t go back home. He knew it was odd timing that he’d had the second apartment finished just when it was going to be most needed, but he was far from ready to give credit for that foresight to a higher power. He was simply the kind of man who liked efficiency and it had been logical to have the work done while a seasoned crew was available.

Which reminded him. Finding a carpentry team that was both trustworthy and able to take on the job of fixing Maya’s house was going to be tough, con
sidering the state of many buildings in town. Above all, they’d have to be very careful to avoid hiring one of the fly-by-night operations that were circling High Plains like vultures.

Greg followed her to a table and placed the little girl in a folding chair beside her mother as he asked, “Have you heard anything more from the insurance company?”

“Nothing definite. An adjuster did tell me that if my house had been leveled, the way the town hall was, I’d get a settlement check sooner. As it is, there will have to be a full inspection, a cost analysis, and maybe even an engineer’s report done before they can give me more than the money to cover replacement of my house’s contents. And since I only lost half of that…”

“Terrific. How long did they say all that paperwork would take?”

“From a couple of weeks to several months. Maybe longer.”

Noting her apologetic expression and raised eyebrows, Greg was sorry he’d pressed her. “Hey. Don’t sweat the small stuff—and it’s all small stuff when you look at the bigger picture. You can stay in the apartment as long as you need to.”

“I know. But I am going to pay you something for rent. I wouldn’t feel right living there if you don’t let me do that.”

“Okay. How’s a dollar a week sound?”

“Don’t be silly.”

He couldn’t help noticing how cute she looked when she was making silly faces at him. Greg laughed. “Okay. You drive a hard bargain. Make it two dollars, but that’s my final offer.”

When he noticed her eyes growing misty he stepped away and changed the subject. “Well, if you two are all set, I’ll go get myself something to eat before the good dishes are gone. Save me a seat?”

“Of course,” Maya said as she laid a napkin on the chair beside her to mark it as taken. “Hurry back.”

That was a given, he mused, a bit surprised at his eagerness to rejoin her. Nothing in his life had been the same since the tornado. He craved orderliness, sameness, a future that was planned and executed with skill. That was the way he had always lived and that was the way he intended to conduct himself in the future. Yet here he was, trapped in the midst of chaos—and he felt happier, more needed, than he had in his entire life.

Maya could not drive anywhere until her car was repaired or replaced. High Plains was a small enough town that walking wherever she wanted to go was not difficult. She missed her car mostly because it had had air-conditioning and the July heat was sweltering, especially since the storm had raised the humidity. Even the nights retained the oppressive heat.

It was twilight when she, Greg and Layla left the church together and strolled home through the park. Thankfully, a breeze was blowing off the river and that brought some relief.

“Phew,” Maya said, sighing and facing into the wind as she raked her bangs off her damp forehead. “That’s better. I don’t remember a summer this hot since I was little.”

“Probably because you’ve gotten used to air-conditioning,” he replied. “Like you said, we’re spoiled.”

“True. I used to think we were as capable and tough as the folks who settled High Plains, but I’m changing my mind about that. They had to be extraordinary people.”

“They were. And it’s not just the Kansas summers they had to cope with. Can you imagine having to raise your own food and prepare everything from scratch?”

Maya rolled her eyes. “No. But if Grocery Town doesn’t reopen soon we may all find out what that was like.”

Chuckling, Greg pointed to that closed market on the opposite side of Main. “I saw activity in there this afternoon so I stopped to talk to the guys doing the cleanup. They think they can have the place back in working order in a few more days. Their biggest problem is power for the coolers and freezers, but even without that they can still sell fresh food and canned goods.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Why? Don’t you like peanut butter sandwiches?”

Layla was quick to answer, “I do!”

When Maya looked into his eyes she saw a teasing twinkle that made her laugh. “I used to. They’re getting a little boring lately. I was so glad to have a hot meal at church tonight, I think I’d have eaten just about anything.”

“We did. What was that brown stuff in the crockpot?”

“I don’t know. Stuffing, I guess. It had to have come out of a box. Those church ladies are amazing. I think they could keep an army fed if they had to.”

“They are feeding an army,” Greg answered. “I can’t believe how many outsiders have showed up already, and I know it’s just the beginning. If we were a functioning town we’d make a fortune from all the tourists and extra workers.”

“Now you sound like the old Greg Garrison.”

“Do I? Sorry. We can use all the help we can get. Which reminds me. I stopped and asked Michael if there was anything else he needed and he signed me up to go help open and clean the Waters cottages. That’s what I get for volunteering, huh?”

She could tell that, in spite of his protestations and occasional reversion to his former frugality, Greg was eager to pitch in and lend a hand. It was as if he had a new lease on life, a new outlook that had made him seem happier than she’d ever seen him.

“Have you found out if the Garrison homestead is all right?”

“Yeah. It’s fine. Dad and his nurse took cover in the springhouse, just the way the old-timers used to, and the ranch hands hunkered down in Nora’s old storm cellar behind the house.”

“I had forgotten all about that springhouse. Even if they don’t have electricity out there, your father can probably keep his perishables from spoiling if he puts them down there, can’t he?”

“Not as well as modern refrigeration would but, yes, he can, as long as the spring keeps running through it.” He smiled wistfully. “I used to hide down there and dangle my bare feet in the icy water when I was a kid like Tommy. It was a good place to go to escape doing chores, too. It was always cool, even in weather like this.”